


Pain: Without Love

by sammysmissingshoe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Bondage, Demon Blood, Detoxing, Forgive Me, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt Sam Winchester, I don't know how to use tags yet, Sam's tied up so...?, Sort of? - Freeform, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3515777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammysmissingshoe/pseuds/sammysmissingshoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"His thoughts switched to a whole new level of fear as Alastair pulled out a scalpel and began tracing the bottom of his jaw.</p><p>'Goodness, how will we pass the time?'" </p><p>Tag to When the Levee Breaks. An extension on the scene with Sam and Alastair.<br/>Story title comes from a Three Days Grace song, Pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pain: Without Love

**Author's Note:**

> So, my first time posting a fic on this site! Yay! Decided to start off simple with a one-shot that came to me when watching my favourite episode. What can I say? No really, enjoy? Enjoy isn't the right word when you're about to read a torture fic. Eh, whatever. Enjoy!

Sam twisted the wheel with shaking hands, his attempt proving to be futile. He went to skulk around the room, when he huffed out a breath, and he saw it. Disbelievingly, he forced more air from his lungs and his breath fogged before him again. The light started flickering above him, making his heart beat faster by the second.

 _"No, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening."_ Sam inwardly panicked.

"Guys!" He called, praying for them to take him away from this potential nightmare. "Get down here, something's com-" He stopped as his eyes caught a familiar figure standing before him.

"Hello, Sam."

If Sam's mind had any logic left, it vanished at the sound of that voice: Alastair. The man, demon, that had tortured Dean for thirty years. The demon that had broken his brother in Hell. The demon that Sam had killed.

That last thought never found its way into Sam's head, for he was too overcome with fear.

"It's a pleasure to see you again. And looks like I have you all to myself here."

Sam felt his gaping mouth tremble. No sound came through, even though his head was in chaos.

_"This can't be happening, this isn't happening, where's Dean, why isn't Dean coming, what if Alastair got to him already?"_

His thoughts switched to a whole new level of fear as Alastair pulled out a scalpel, and began tracing the bottom of his jaw.

"Goodness, how will we pass the time?"

Sam finally found his voice. "DEAN!"

Alastair threw his head back in mocking laughter. "Don't you know, Sammy? Dean's not coming for you. He's the reason you're here."

Sam swallowed the awful taste in his mouth. "What are you talking about?"

"Hell, Sammy-boy! This is Hell, yours specifically."

Sam's breathing quickened, and he tried to reason with what he thought was impossible. "I'm not… I- I didn't-"

"Oh, sure you did. Dean found out about your little addiction, and he finally got rid of the most dangerous freak he's ever dealt with."

"Dean didn't… he wouldn't-"

"But he did. Either way, you can forget about Dean, you're with me now, Sammy."

He flicked his wrist and Sam fell on top of some kind of table. He should have realized that the table appeared out of nowhere, and that the bed had somehow vanished, but he wasn't in his right mind, and his eyes betrayed him.

Leather straps tightened over his arms, legs, chest, waist, and even over his mouth.

Sam struggled furiously against his bonds, terrified to find any truth behind Alastair's words. The demon casually made his way over to Sam, and allowed the light to shine off the scalpel.

"Don't." Sam pleaded. His breathing picked up as he tried not to show his terror. "No, no. Don't. Don't." A few more panicked gasps. "Don't."

Alastair didn't even look at him. He lashed out with the blade, and then embedded it in Sam's stomach.

Sam couldn't stop the pained grunt as it burned in his throat. He gasped heavily as he tried not to scream, but the harder he breathed, the deeper the scalpel sank into his gut. The blade dug deeper, and Alastair didn't even seem to notice Sam. He kept carving away as though he was cutting a wood block, rather than skin.

Unable to stop himself, Sam cried out. "Don't! Stop!"

Alastair ignored him and continued his handiwork.

"Alastair," He hated himself for what he said next. "Please! Please."

The demon cocked his head, and slowly pulled the scalpel out. "So polite all of a sudden." He raised his hands.

Sam tried not to gag at the sight of his blood _"Oh, gosh, there was so much of it"_ coating Alastair's hands.

"Very nice." He smiled as he leaned down to Sam, who was refusing to look him in the eye. The blade was tauntingly close to his face, glistening red with his blood. "I appreciate that."

Sam risked a glance into Alastair's eyes, and immediately regretted it. There was no pity or humanity in him at all; just sheer hatred and fascination with his work. Sam started to panic as Alastair started to move the scalpel towards his already gushing stomach.

"No, no! Alastair, please, no!" He stopped as the blade was jammed into him again. He couldn't hold back his scream as the scalpel started slicing into him once more. Alastair was just so freaking precise in every little cut. He seemed to enjoy every pain filled cry Sam let loose.

"Please! Please, stop! Please!" Sam begged as tears filled his eyes.

"Now, now, Sammy," Alastair cooed as he slowly pushed the scalpel in further, triggering another scream from Sam. "Dean didn't break for thirty years, you're not going to start breaking already, are you?"

Sam swallowed the fear in his throat as tears burned in his eyes. "Dean held out, you can do it. Just don't scream, don't scream."

As if Alastair had heard Sam's thoughts, he cruelly twisted the blade hoping to hear Sam cry out again, but Sam bit the bottom of his lip and stopped the shout, but allowed a moaning cry to escape. His muscles tensed as he fought every instinct that was telling him to scream, or fight, anything.

"Oh, so now you're gonna be like Dean? That's sweet, really." He mocked as he continued to tear into Sam. Sam forced his mouth shut as he began shaking with the agony.

Alastair lightly traced the previous cuts and suddenly thrust the blade back into them, earning a broken whimper from Sam.

"You can pretend to be like him all you want," he continued while Sam kept gasping deeply in pain. "But we both know, you're nothing like him. I mean, he told you to stay away from Ruby and demon blood, but did you listen to him?"

Alastair twisted the blade out, and as relieved as Sam was to have it out, he knew the break wouldn't last. His thoughts proved to be right as Alastair put a calloused hand against Sam's wounds, a single finger beginning to force its way though the cut, drawing more blood, and more pain.

Every one of Sam's instincts was telling him to curl in on himself, but the straps prevented any movement. Alastair slowly pressed in harder and Sam felt the blood pooling out, and surrounding his torso against the cold metal table. Alastair continued pushing in, until Sam couldn't hold back anymore, and he screamed.

"There it is." Alastair smiled in all too pleasant victory. "Dean hates you for what you've turned into, you know. Just in case you ever forget, I left you a reminder."

It finally occurred to Sam that Alastair wasn't just carving; he was engraving.

Alastair reached towards Sam's face with blood covered fingers. Sam trembled at what Alastair was planning to do, but was shocked as he removed the gag from his mouth.

"Go ahead, read it. I wrote it upside down, just for you."

Sam painfully lifted his head up and looked at the sparkling red letters branded on to him.

"MONSTER."

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, hoped that worked. So, reviews? Are those a thing here? I apologise, I really have no idea what I'm going here. Sorry. Well, if they exist I'd love to know what you thought. Thanks for reading, and until I figure out how to post multi-chaptered stories, carry on my wayward sons!


End file.
